


My Gift From God

by kattahj



Category: Young Riders
Genre: Backstory, Canon Disabled Character, Drama, Family, Gen, Nakama, Native American Character(s), Nuns, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-15
Updated: 2002-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattahj/pseuds/kattahj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miracles do happen, and even nuns and orphans can find family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Gift From God

_\- a maidenly love story, or a family story without relations._

Sister Ruth looked out the window of the schoolroom at the children outside. Some were playing what appeared to be innocent games, others made her frown.

“They’re picking on Ike again”, she said indignantly. She never could stand unnecessary cruelty.

Sister Martha left her sewing and looked out the window too. She taught the youngest pupils, whose opinions of her varied from “quite a good sport” to “frightening”. She was also a very pretty young woman, and her prettiness always made sister Ruth feel awkward. She herself was a thin, nearsighted woman of forty who had never been pretty and certainly never would be.

“Yes, it’s quite a shame, really”, said sister Martha in her melodic, Irish voice. “But I don’t think he understands it. It’s not as if they really hurt him.”

“How do you know?” asked sister Ruth, raising her own voice, which was as thin and plain as the rest of her. “You don’t know what goes on in his soul!”

“Soul?”

It was sister Joan that decided to join the conversation. Sister Joan had lived for fiftythree years and been a nun more than half of that time, and she took for granted that her own opinion was shared by the Divinity.

“Surely there can’t be much of a soul in there!” she said disregarding.

She didn’t leave her chair. She didn’t have to. Her voice only pointed out exactly why there couldn’t be a soul inside that little mute, bald twelveyearold.

“Poor child”, sighed sister Ruth.

The answer to this was a loud snort from the other nun.

“A punishment from God on the parents, I’m sure”, she said.

“I hear they were God-fearing people”, objected sister Martha.

“Presbyterians!” said sister Joan, as if that word was enough.

“Ah, presbyterians!” said sister Martha, and a smile came over her pretty face. “Scottish people! Honestly, sister Joan, if that was all it took, few normal children would ever be born.”

She got no answer. Sister Joan was deeply offended. The younger nun hadn’t only contradicted her, but ridiculed her! Sister Martha realised her mistake.

“I think God just wanted to try them”, she said.

“Maybe he rewarded them”, said sister Ruth shortly and turned to leave. She rushed so quickly through the door that she bumped into a boy that was taken into the schoolroom by mother Helen. The boy took a step backwards and watched her closely. He was of Indian origin, approximately in his early teens, and very serious in a way that made him look like a grown man.

“Watch where you’re going, sister Ruth!” said mother Helen.“This is our newest pupil, Buck Cross.”

“Running Buck”, mumbled the child. Mother Helen gave him a sharp glance.

“Buck Cross”, she repeated. “He’ll be one of Bridget’s pupils.” She gave the boy a light push in the back. “Say hello to sister Ruth, Buck!”

“Hello, sister Ruth”, said the boy reluctantly.

“Hello Buck”, said sister Ruth, who felt tears coming down her chins.“Forgive me, mother, but I have to go…” And she ran off through the corridor.

Mother Helen looked puzzled.

“What on earth came over her?” she asked the other nuns.

“She’s very peculiar”, said sister Martha with a frown.

“Mad”, said sister Joan shortly. “Absolutely mad, mark my words.”

When sister Ruth came out on the playing ground, she tried to find Ike McSwain, but could not. The other children had moved on to killing bugs or some other sweet, childish game. She walked around aimlessly for a while, before she spotted his red bandana by the henhouse. She went over there, and was surprised to see him sitting on the ground with a hen in his lap.

“Hello, Ike”, she said, softly.

The boy looked up. He wasn’t hostile, but clearly on his guard.

“I’ve never seen anyone pat a hen before”, she said. “I always thought hens weren’t to keen on people. She lookes nice, though. Is she nice?”

He nodded, and reached out his hand. She sat down on her heels and gave her own hand to him. He took it, and very gently he stroke the hen’s back with it. The feathers tickled her palm.

“Well, that’s… lovely!” she said, and she sat there, next to the boy, for quite some time, before the bell rang and she remembered what a proper nun was supposed to do.

After that, sister Ruth did not pay much attention to Ike for a while. She had so many pupils, and she was far too fond of them. Even though all the pupils she taught literature were ten years old or more, she always referred to them as “little lambs”. She had no illusionsof them, she knew little lambs are not as white as we suppose them to be, and she managed to keep her class disciplined. But there was some aspects of teaching that she simply couldn’t stand, and beating was one of them.

“What is it now, sister Ruth?” asked sister Martha, rather wearily, when she found sister Ruth crying in the corridor.

“Listen!” answered sister Ruth.

Sister Martha listened and heard sister Joan’s harsh voice interrupted by the smacks of a cane.

“Well, some children need a beating”, she said and sat down next to her colleague. “The Bible says so.”

“Yes, I know”, sobbed sister Ruth, “but I cannotbelieve that it’s right!”

They heard sister Joan shout: “You will burn in hell if you don’t abandon your heathen ways, do you hear me! I will beat your sins out of you if it’s the last thing I do!”

Sister Martha leant back and smiled.

“Buck?” she asked.

Sister Ruth nodded.

“I bet he’s standing straight as a tree”, continued sister Martha,“taking the blows curageously like a man should, whatever he may feel about it. Heathen or not, I can’t help admiring the boy. He’s got character.”

The noise inside silenced, and a few seconds later, Buck came out. By his expression, nobody could tell the condition of his behind. He stopped and looked at the two nuns.

“She’s got quite an arm, doesn’t she, Buck?” said sister Martha lightly.

“She does”, said the boy and looked at sister Ruth, who was still sobbing.

She looked up and tried to wipe her tears away.

“Hello”, she said.

“Do you always, cry, sister?” the boy asked.

There was a half-choked laughter from sister Martha, who quickly put her hand in front of her mouth. Sister Ruth blushed.

“No”, she said. “Not… always.”

“I feel so silly!” she said when Buck had left. “Am I such a whimp that I can’t stand to hear my pupils be beaten?”

“The whimp in the wimple!” said sister Martha and laughed. “I don’t think you’re a whimp. You’ve got plenty of guts -you just have to find them.”

It just so happened that Ruths first chance of finding her guts came thanks to Ike McSwain. She was just undressing after completorium when a violent knock came on the door, and sister Bridget’s voice shouted:

“Sister Ruth, are you in there?”

“Yes”, she answered, “what is it?”

“We need you down in the boys’ dormitory number four!” said the other nun. “Come quick!”

Sister Ruth hurried to put her clothes back on and opened her door. Sister Bridget was waiting for her outside. She was a chubby nun, thirtysomething, with a surprising look of mischief in her eyes. Now, however, she look entirely distressed.

“Hurry up!” she said, and started running down the corridor.

“What… is… the matter?” panted sister Ruth as she ran.

“It’s Ike McSwain!” said sister Bridget, who in spite of her weight didn’t seem to be a bit troubled by running. “He has attacked sister Renata! Fortunately, mother Helen, sister Martha and I was right outside and we heard her scream. Otherwise he might have seriously hurt her! Oh, sister Ruth!” She stopped short, because they were now right outside number four, and she looked really desperate. “I don’t know if we can keep him after this!”

Sister Ruth frowned. Somehow it didn’t sound like the boy she remembered holding a hen in his lap.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” she asked.

“It was sister Martha’s idea”, said sister Bridget as she opened the door. “She thought you might have a good influence on him.”

Sister Martha barely gave the two nuns a glance, she was too busy holding Ike’s wrists to prevent him from hitting her.

“Stop it!” she said in that no-nonsense tone of voice that could frighten sensitive little children. “Now, lie down and behave yourself. I’ll have none of this, you hear me?”

Not far from Ike’s bed sat sister Renata on a chair, with mother Helen next to her. The sister’s face was lined with red, bloody marks of nails.

“I have never in my life met such a child!” she said indignantly. “He must be mad! Either that or possessed with some evil demon!”

“What did you do to him?!” exclaimed sister Ruth.

“I? I did nothing! He just suddenly got a fit and tried to kill me!”

“Well, that’s a serious accusation”, said sister Ruth and looked at the crying, helplessly struggling boy. “For Christ’s sake, Martha”, she added sharply, “let go of him!”

“Sorry, sister”, answered sister Martha, and there was a quick shadow of a grin on her face, “I’m not going to have those nails in my face.”

Sister Ruth approached the bed, trying to ignore the curious faces of nine little boys that from their beds followed everything that happened.

“Ike”, she said, softly, “you wouldn’t hurt me if sister Martha let go, would you?”

The boy gave her a suspicious look.

“Would you?”

He lowered his arms, and sister Martha let go, even though she obviously was doubtful about it.

Sister Ruth sat down on Ike’s bed and stroke his cheek.

“Now, what’s wrong?” she asked.

He reached out his hand, with a commanding look on his face.

“What? What did she do?”  
“I tell you I didn’t do anything!” said sister Renata.

Ike made an ugly face at her, and sister Ruth had to bite her lip not to laugh.

“I don’t believe that for a minute, sister!” she said, and her voice was hard as steel. “Something must have happened, and I assume you had something to do with it!”

“Well, I never…”

“Yes, you said that! But what happened when you came to his bed?”

“He had a ribbon”, said Tommy, the tiny boy of eight that slept in the bed next to Ike’s. “And she took it.”

“Did she?” said sister Ruth and looked at Ike, who nodded violently.

“Sister?” she said, looking at sister Renata. “Is it true? Did you take a ribbon from this boy?”

“He must have stolen it from one of the girls!” objected sister Renata.

“First murder, then theft!” said sister Ruth, who was coldly furious by now. “Do you have any other unprovable accusations against him?” She turned to Ike. “You didn’t steal the ribbon, did you?”

He shook his head.

“Well, then that’s settled”, said sister Ruth and turned to her colleague. “Now will you give it back?”

“You can’t believe him, his clearly mad!” shouted the other nun.

“Another accusation!”

“What would he do with a ribbon anyway?”

“He keeps it under his pillow”, said Tommy. “He’s kept it there for as long as I have lived here, and when he thinks everyone is asleep he takes it out. Sometimes he cries when he holds it.”

Ike looked at Tommy so angrily that the younger boy hurried to hide himself under his blanket. Sister Ruth looked at sister Renata, and she felt full of something strange, something that had never been a part of her before.

“Give. It. Back.” she repeated.

Sister Renata stared at her for a split second and then opened her hand. Inside it was a pale blue ribbon, and sister Ruth took it from the other nun’s motionless hand and gave it to Ike.

“Here you go, my little lamb”, she said.

He sobbed as he took his beloved possession back, and then he surprisingly threw his arms around sister Ruth’s neck and buried his face in her veil. Sister Ruth almost tumbled; the boy was only an inch or two shorter than herself. Then she felt a warm tenderness rising inside her. She hadn’t been hugged for many, many years. She put her arms around Ike’s chest and rocked him slowly.

“Dear child”, she mumbled. “Dear, dear child.”

“You were magnificent!” said sister Martha enthusiastically the next time the two of them met on their own. “I’ve never seen you like that, it was like a miracle!” She raised her hands as in prayer. “Ruth O’Reilly, the wild animal defending her cub! Hallelujah!”

“Don’t joke about this!” said sister Ruth, who was very unhappy. “Anger is a mortal sin!”

“Don’t be silly!” said sister Martha, who was laughing wildly.“She had it coming! Oh, the look on her face… What’s next? Are you going to take on Joanie? I do wish you would, she could need a good calling down.”

“Oh, Martha, you’re so…” Sister Ruth shook her head. “Why did you even become a nun?”

“What?” Sister Marta looked puzzled, and sister Ruth shrugged.

“Well, anyone can understand why I did. A meek little thing that never got married… This way I get children, and companionship with other women - even a husband in God. But you! You don’t have a nun’s temper, and you must have had dozens of admirers.”

“I did”, said sister Martha. “But I didn’t want any of them.”

She sat silent for a while, and then started to speak. She seemed absent-minded.

“The priest in my home town always had very dull sermons. And when they weren’t dull they were simply outrageous! And yet I liked going to church, because the rest of the mass was like magic to me. The clothes, the incense, the beautiful Latin phrases - I found them beautiful even though I didn’t understand them. So, as soon as I learned how to read I found myself an old King James’ Bible and tried to figure out if it was the sermons or the magic that was truly Biblical. You know what I found?”

Sister Ruth shook her head, and sister Martha recited dreamily:

“‘Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.’” She smiled. “I was just a little girl, it could as well have been Latin. But I loved it. And I loved many parts that I understood, too. Zacchæus who climbed a tree to get a chance to see Jesus; Rhoda who was too glad to remember to open the door for Peter; Ruth who followed her mother-in-law to a strange country. I remember the chill I got when Moses dared to stand in front of the man who raised him and say ‘Let my people go’. And when I grew up, there were simply no men that could compete with that. They were… their poetry was never as passionate as ‘Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.’ I fell in love with God. And because I fell in love with him, I fell in love with his creation, his people. Maybe I don’t always seem serious, but I don’t think God is afraid of laughter. I think the devil is, because laughter diminishes him to what he is: a low, powerless creature that the love of God can conquer anytime.”

Her eyes glittered, and sister Ruth sighed.

“That is so beautiful! I do envy you. Somehow you’re always better than me in everything.”

“That’s not true.” Sister Martha took the other woman’s hand.“I may have the beauty of Psalms, but you have the love of Luke’s gospel. Like him, you love the little people. Kids like Ike. He hugged you.”

“He did”, said Ruth, and felt one of those stupid tears coming down her cheek.

“Now you know what love is. It hurts, but it’s worth the pain. “ Sister Martha smiled. “I would say you have a child now.”

That really got the tears to flow. Sister Martha looked slightly amused, but how could she know? All sister Ruth ever wanted was children, but to get that she needed something she never managed to get- a man.

“Leslie and Sheila are my absolute favourites”, said sister Bridget, who was marking some papers. “They actually do some thinking of their own, which is rare. Most of the children just do as you tell them. Nice and well-behaved, certainly, but not much spirit.”

“But you’ve got Buck Cross among your abecedarians”, objected sister Martha. “He’s my favourite.”

“Ouch, too grown up!” replied sister Bridget. “Almost like a man. They lose something in that age. But it’s all very well for you, you’re not the one who has to make ‘the cat sat in the hat’ look like a serious sentence.”

Sister Ruth frowned. She had always had very strong opinions about keeping favourites, but she didn’t feel that she had the right to object anymore. Ike was most definitely closest to her heart, and the only thing she comforted herself with was that he wasn’t in her classes, so she didn’t really have to stay objective.

Restlessly, she moved towards the window and looked out to see what was going on. Everything appeared normal, but in a distant corner she saw Mitch Hartnell, the worst bully in the school, Roger Delacroix, who had been likewise until he left two years earlier (as mildmannered as sister Ruth was, she must admit to herself that she couldn’t wait for Mitch to leave, too), and two of Roger’s no-good companions from town. She couldn’t see what they were up to, but she was certain it wasn’t anything good. The older men looked drunk.

At that moment, Roger stept aside, and sister Ruth almost lost her breath when she saw what was going on. Mitch was holding Buck Cross while the other three beat him up.

“What’s the matter?”

Sister Martha rose and stood next to her by the window.

“Good Lord!” she said when she saw the cruel assault.

“I got to stop them!” said sister Ruth and started to leave, but stopped when sister Martha said:

“Now, what is he up to?”, and then burst into a short, surprised laughter.

“What?” said sister Ruth and looked into the window again.

What she saw made her chin fall down, and there they stood, like two nesting-boxes. Because Ike McSwain had unexpectedly come to Buck’s rescue by attacking Mitch. Mitch had to let go, and for a moment the two boys stood next to each other, while the bullies tried to figure out the new situation.

“Look at them!” said sister Martha, and there was admiration in her voice. “Back to back, like two ancient Celtic warriors.”

“Warriors beaten black and blue”, said sister Ruth when the bullies had gotten facts into their heads and took on both the smaller boys with renewed energy.

She hurried through the corridors and entered the schoolyard. There was by now a small crowd around the boys, but most of the kids payed no attention to the scene - the odds were to uneven to make the fight interesting.

“Stop that immediately!” shouted sister Ruth, but nobody listen to her.

Now, the O’Reilly family had been blessed with four boys, and Ruth’s brothers had taught her quite a few things that weren’t very proper for a girl to know. She had forgotten most of it, but not everything.

Sister Ruth put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The sharp sound made the combattants halt. Sister Ruth grabbed Mitch and separated him from his victim.

“I want you to leave immediately!” she said to the drunks. Then she turned to the youngster she was holding. “You! Go to your dormitory, grab your rosary and start praying! You’ll need God’s mercy, believe me!”

“They started it”, tried Roger.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, young man! You can consider yourself lucky that you don’t belong to this school anymore!”

It was a funny scene. The nun was no bigger than the boys she defended, and much smaller than the men she reproached. But even if they had no respect for her physics, they actually did have some respect for her clothes, and obeyed her command.

When she had seen them leave, she turned to the others. They were a sorry sight, bruised and bleeding. But she was too exhausted after the battle of minds to feel any pity.

“Anything broken?”

Ike shook his head. Buck rose and rubbed his shoulder.

“I think my arm is dislocated”, he said.

“Really?” This actually concerned her, and she hurried to take a look. The joint was a bit swollen, but it was in its place. “It’s just a sprain. Ask sister Elizabeth to put a bandage on it. We’ll talk about this later. You two…”

It was the first time that phrase was used about them. Maybe she had some hunch that it wouldn’t be the last, because she turned to Ike.

“Now, what did you do that for?”

He shrugged - he had no way of telling her. She sighed a little and shook her head.

“You’d better put a cold knife or something on that eye, or you won’t be able to use it tomorrow.”

As she left, Buck turned to Ike, and reached out his hand.

“Thank you. I owe you one.”

Ike shyly took his hand, but shook his head, shrugged and pointed at Buck’s wounded shoulder.

“Well, sure”, said Buck with a grin, “it didn’t help much. But I appreciate the try. Friends?”

Ike looked at him in astonishment. He hadn’t had a friend for as long as he could remember. Then he nodded, slowly.

Without even thinking, Buck joined his hands in a simple gesture:// friend//. Ike raised his eyebrows and repeated it inquiringly. And that’s how it began.

A few weeks later, sister Ruth was called into mother Helen’s study. Many of the other nuns were also there, among them sister Martha, who walked to and fro and seemed very upset.

“Sit down, sister”, said mother Helen. When sister Ruth had obeyed her, she added: “I understand that you take a certain interest in Ike McSwain.”

“Yes”, said sister Ruth, “I suppose so…”

Mother Helen sighed. She seemed reluctant to continue.

“It has been suggested - not for the first time - that it might be best to send the boy to some asylum.”

“What!?” Sister Ruth rose from her chair.“Why on earth would you want to do something like that?”

“It’s not as if we wanted it”, answered the abbess. “It’s a question of wheather or not he can get by here.”

“Well, it’s always worked out before, hasn’t it?” objected sister Ruth, who still couldn’t believe what was said.

“Until all of a sudden he decides to fight someone”, said sister Renata, who found this a proper time to enter the discussion.

Sister Ruth turned to her like a roaring lioness.

“You’re just mad at him because he made your pretty face bleed. But believe me, I’ll do the same to you if any of this is your idea.”

“Ruth!” Mother Helen was shocked.

“Was it her idea?”

“I have no obligation to tell you that. Now, sit down!”

At this point, sister Martha stopped and turned to her superior.

“Which fight is this about? The one over the ribbon or the one over Buck?”

“Well”, said mother Helen and shrugged, “they’re not the only ones. But I really couldn’t call every boy mad who chooses to use his fists.”

“No, only if he can’t object to it”, said sister Martha bitterly and started to walk around the room again.

“Will you stop that, you’re distracting me!” The abbess put her chin in her hand. “Nothing is decided yet. I’ve called this meeting to get every point of view that I can. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m in charge of eighteen nuns and almost two hundred children. I cannot possibly have first hand information on everyone. Is that clear? Now, I have been told that Buck Cross has gotten an influence on Ike that may not be positive.”

“They’ve made friends!” shouted sister Martha. “Since when is that forbidden?”

Mother Helen continued without paying any attention to the interruption: “This has been added to what has been said in previous discussions of this kind, that is, that Ike is retarded and not responsible for his actions, and that he may require extra care.”

“Care? Is that what you call it?”

“Martha, will you please stop yelling at me?”

“Well, I think they’re sweet together”, said sister Bridget timidly. “If my opinion matters.”

“Of course it matters. Go on.”

“It’s just as sister Martha said, really. They made friends. They don’t have many other friends - any other friends, come to think of it. I don’t think it’s bad influence. I’ve never seen either of them so happy.”

“I’ll tell you one thing!” said sister Ruth, who finally got her head together. “If you send that boy away, it’ll be over my dead body! I’ll chain myself to him if I have to, watch over him day and night and resist anyone who tries to take him away from me.”

“Very well, you don’t have to be so melodramatic.”

“Doesn’t she?” Sister Martha wasn’t yelling anymore, her voice was low and fierce. “Have you ever been to one of them places? I have. I worked there for a month - that was as long as I could stand it. All those unhappy people locked up behind bars, and if any of them dared to cry they were tied to their beds, or shut into a dark, empty room all alone, or thrown into a freezing cold bathtub where they lay for hours and hours. Once, I even saw them put a woman in a pit full of snakes. Not poisonous ones, of course, but still! It was explained to me, that since something like that would make a sane person mad, it might make a mad person sane. Guess what? It didn’t. Now, some of the patients were actually lunatics, others were just dummies like Ike or simply inconvenient. But I wouldn’t even put a rabies-infected dog in a place like that.”

Mother Helen sighed. Her eyes looked very sad.

“But surely there must be places that aren’t like that?”

“Does it really matter?” Sister Martha was calm now, she had gotten the worst part out of her system. “They’re all for mad people, and he’s not mad, whatever else he may be. Everything he’s done has a sane and logical explanation.” She smiled. “And he’s quite a brave kid, too, isn’t he?”

Mother Helen sat silent for a minute. Then she looked up and said:

“Ruth, I’d like a word alone with you. The rest of you can get back to your duties.”

As sister Martha left, she noticed someone trying to hide in a corner. She stopped and waited for the others to pass by, before she started to speak.

“Hello, Buck”, she said. “You haven’t by any chance been eavesdropping, have you?”

The boy came out of his hidingplace. His dark eyes were very big, and his entire appearence seemed shook up.

“They’re not really going to send Ike away, are they?” he asked. “To one of those places you described?”

Sister Martha sighed and sat down on a bench. Buck sat down beside her and watched her closely.

“No, I don’t think so”, she said. “Mother Helen doesn’t have the heart to do that - especially not over sister Ruth’s dead body.” She laughed a little. “Have you ever seen a sparrow bite a hawk?”

He frowned. “No.”

“I have. Just then and there. What a lovely sight it is!” She laughed to herself. “She has surprised me so much lately that I think I wouldn’t think it odd if she threw the veil away and joined the army! At least not if there was someone she could protect with it. Just the way she treated those bullies who beat you up; they were twice as big as her and she treated them as if they were five years old.”

Buck watched her thoroughly, as if he tried to find something in her face.

“How did you know about that? You weren’t there.”

“I know everything!” She grinned. “No. Thing is - and this is a secret, we don’t want you children to know - that we watch you a lot, from the window in the teacher’s room on the third floor.”

“So you saw what happened?”

“It was beautiful!”

“Beautiful!?” Buck’s voice was indignantly raised, then he thought for a moment. “Oh. You mean Ruth.”

“Actually, I was referring to you two. I’ve never seen anyone be beaten up with such dignity! Especially you.” She stroke his cheek. It was the first time she touched him, and the gesture was affectionate. “And then Ike throwing himself into it.” The smile never left her face. “I told Ruth you were just like a couple of Celtic warriors.”

“What’s Celtic?”

“Oh.” That forced her to think. “Have you read any European history yet?”

He shook his head, but then he nodded. “We just got started on the Romans.”

“Romans? Okay. Yes, I can get them into this. Is it Joan you’re having?”

“Mhm.” He didn’t seem too pleased at this, and she laughed at his resentful face.

“Poor thing. Anyway, has she told you that the Romans were conquerers - fought people and tried to get more land?”

“Yes.”

“Well, some of those people they fought were Celts. As with most conquered people, they died or left or took over Roman ways. But not in Ireland! In Ireland they stayed strong for hundreds of years, even if after a while they abandoned their religion and became Christians.”

She was silent for a while and he said: “And then what?”

“Well, they were beaten after a while. The English took over, and that’s the way it is. But every true Irish man or woman remembers the fact that the Celtic heroes of our stories are our own ancestors, and that our language is their language, too.”

“English?” Buck was fascinated.

“Oh, no! The rich speak English, but I’m from a poor family. Sure we spoke English when we had to, but… I’ll let you in on a secret.” She leant towards him. “The rich are weaklings. They have forgotten their Celtic heroes and want to be English.”

“But you speak English now.”

“This is America! If I spoke Irish, nobody would understand me!”

“Hm.” They watched each other - he very serious, she still laughing a little. “So it’s a compliment, then, being a Celtic warrior.”

“Most definitely.” Her thoughts went otherwise, and she stared at mother Helen’s door, as if that could make it open. “What on earth is taking them so long?”

“We could always…” His eyes met hers, and she didn’t object. They sat down on the stone floor with their ears pressed against the door.

“…It seems from what you’ve said that you’re very attached to the boy.”

“I am.” Sister Ruth’s voice was half-choked. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from crying. “I can’t explain it, sometimes a child is simply different.”

“Mhm. But would you be willing to take personal responsibility for him? Meaning that you keep a good eye on him, and the next time anything happens, I’ll turn to you.”

“Yes.” The answer came almost before mother Helen had stopped talking.

“Good! Then we won’t have to discuss this any further.”

Buck grabbed Martha’s hand very hard.

“She made it!” he whispered, and she nodded happily at him. Then the door opened, and they were pushed aside.

“Honestly, Martha”, said sister Ruth, but couldn’t help smiling.

The two sinners rose, embarrassed but giggling. Sister Ruth turned to leave. Then she stopped when Buck called her name.

“Sister Ruth?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

He wanted to say “thank you”, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he said: “If they had taken Ike away, it would have been over my dead body, too.”

She smiled and took his chin in her hand.

“Stop listening at the doors!” she said. Her eyes turned to sister Martha. “And that goes for you, too.”

Sister Ruth had gone through Jane Austen’s authorship with the oldest pupils and written quite a lot on the blackboard. When she was wiping it out after the class had left, there was a knock on the door.

“Come on in!” she said, and when the door opened she turned to see who entered. Her face lit up at the sight of Buck and Ike.

“Hi boys”, she said. “What gives me the pleasure?”

“We want…” started Buck, and then changed his choice of words. “Ike wants you to teach him things.”

She raised her eyebrows, and Buck hurried to continue.

“You see, he’s not really a dummy like they think he is. But if they won’t even have him in the classroom, how can he ever learn anything?”

This caught sister Ruth’s attention.

“What do you mean, they won’t have him in the classroom?” Her eyes focused on Ike, who motioned for Buck to continue.

“Well, he had two teachers when he first started and none of them tried to teach him anything. One of them beat him up all the time, so he didn’t go to her classes. The other one wasn’t too bad, but he got into a fight with one of the other boys and she told him to leave and not come back.”

Sister Ruth looked at the boys, very puzzled.

“How do you know all those things?”

This made Ike grin widely, and he signed: //I told him.// Buck grinned back at him and said:

“He says he told me.”

Sister Ruth was intrigued. “What, with his hands?”

“It’s hand signs”, explained Buck. “Indians use them to communicate between the tribes.”

“Oh my God…” A smile flickered over her lips. “Buck, you’re an angel. You know that? Headstrong and heathen as you may be, you’re still an angel.”

“I knew them, he needed them. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Oh isn’t it?” She looked carefully at Ike and answered his grin. “I’m so happy for you, child.” Her hand softly caressed his cheek.

He signed: //Please teach me.// Sister Ruth’s eyes turned to Buck for a translation.

“He asks you to teach him.”

Ike frowned and repeated the// please//.

“Well, okay then. He asks you to please teach him.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Sister Ruth looked troubled.“But I’m not that sort of teacher.”

“He can learn, easily”, Buck assured her. “He’s learned lot of signs just since we made friends. I’m not even a teacher.”

“But I teach literature! I haven’t taught a beginner in many years, and I was never very good at it. Couldn’t you ask sister Bridget?”

Ike shook his head firmly and signed while Buck translated:

“He says you’re his friend and he wants you to do it.” Buck shrugged.“We’ve discussed this, and it seems it’s you or no one. He doesn’t trust anybody else. Not that I blame him.”

“No…” Sister Ruth still looked uncertain. Buck reminded her:

“You promised to take care of him.”

“What I promised was… Yes. That was what I promised, more or less.” She thought for a moment. “Alright, I’ll do it. But on one condition.” She looked at Buck. “You’ll have to teach me those wonderful signs.”

So sister Ruth asked sister Martha for a primer. The other nun gave it to her without questions, which she was ardently grateful for. She wasn’t ready to defend her course of action just yet.

In starting the tutoring, she realised what sister Bridget had meant about “the cat sat in the hat”. It felt absurd - no, insulting - to use pathetic sentences like that to a boy of Ike’s age, but that was what was written in the book, and she didn’t know what else to do. Ike seemed too eager to learn to care, though, but the cynical smile that Buck sometimes got when he was listening made her embarrassed and unhappy. She hadn’t asked to do this, they had come to her. It wasn’t like she had written the blessed thing herself.

This particular day she questioned Ike on some words. She had had a rotten day and felt sulky, awkward and feverish.

“Ring”, she said, trying not to look at Buck. “Thing. Sing. Wing. Bring. Cling.”

She waited for Ike to stop writing, and when he looked up she said: “Are you finished?”

He nodded, and she went to take a look.

“Not bad. You still write S the wrong way, though.” She opened a book and lay it on his desk. “See? Work on that.”

Her tone was so short that Buck asked her:

“Are you okay?”

She sighed and sat down on a desk.

“No. I’m sorry… Why don’t we just call it a day, boys. Come back tomorrow.”

The boys rose, uncertain, and moved towards the door. Then Ike stopped, turned to sister Ruth and signed:

//Thank you.//

“For what?” she asked. She certainly didn’t feel like a benefactor today.

//Everything.//

“Everything? Now that’s something I’m not in charge of.”

She tried to laugh, but she was too tired to give it any mirth. He hugged her, gently. The last time it had been a violent, impulsive act of gratitude; now it was friendly, and surprisingly encouraging. He drew back so that she could see his signs.

//Thank you for teaching me.//

“Well, that’s just your right. It should have been done years ago.”

//And defending me.//

“What?” She didn’t understand and turned to Buck for translation, which he gave in a low tone of voice. Her bad mood alarmed them.

Ike hesitated and didn’t know how to continue. He tried to explain to Buck what he wanted to say, but the other boy was puzzled.

“Your sister’s… what? Plaits? No… Oh, ribbon?”

Sister Ruth raised her head. “The ribbon? It belonged to your sister?”

Ike nodded, his eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away and looked at his face with great concern.

“Ike? What happened to her?”

His single sign was very expressive, and Ruth nodded thoughtfully.

“She died.”

//They were all murdered. By outlaws.//

Sister Ruth didn’t get the entire sentence at first, and when she did, it struck her like a blow.

“Good Lord!” she whispered. She held the boy close to her thin body and mumbled the first thing that came to mind: “’Their blood have they shed like water round about Jerusalem; and there was none to bury them…’”She couldn’t remember the next verse and turned to another: “’Why standest thou afar off, O Lord? Why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?” Suddenly she stopped and turned away, staring at the blackboard incapable of reading its white chalky letters..

“It’s written all over”, she said, bitterly, “I just didn’t pay attention. The Lord said: ‘See, I will take the vain girls, and the mean girls, and I will fulfill their dreams. But you I will lock into a nunnery.’ And the Lord said: ‘Well, what did you expect? Life isn’t fair!’ But maybe the Lord had some compassion, because he spoke again and said: ‘But there are others I have done wrong. People have gotten grief when they deserved joy, persecution when they deserved honour. I give them to you. Love them when nobody else will. And remember that every single one of them is me, so don’t you dare relax for a minute!’”She sank down to the floor, crying. “Oh, Martha”, she sobbed.

The boys looked at her, shocked. They were used to her bursting into tears, she was good at that, but not like this.

//I just wanted her to feel better// Ike signed unhappily.

“Seems to have been the wrong method”, answered Buck. “Come on, let’s leave her alone.”

They left the classroom and as they hurried through the corridors they opened every classroom door to see who was in there, causing quite a lot of alarm. Finally, they found sister Martha. She looked very surprised when they burst in.

“Sister, you have to come at once!” said Buck. “Sister Ruth has got some sort of breakdown.”

Sister Martha turned to her pupils.

“Alright, children, take some papers and colours. When I come back I want each one of you to have made a pretty painting.”

She followed the boys outside and closed the door.

“What classroom?” she asked.

“Last one on the left.”

She looked down the corridor and nodded.

“I’ll take care of this, you just go back to you classes.”

As she hurried down the corridor, Ike couldn’t help grinning.

//What classes?//

“Well, I’m supposed to have mathematics right now, wanna go there? No? Actually, me neither. Come on, we’ll think of something to do.”

When sister Martha found her friend a crying puddle on the floor she stood silently for a minute, and then she went up to her and shook her gently.

“Come on, pull yourself together”, she said, but sister Ruth just kept crying.

“Stop that right now or I’ll hit you!” sister Martha warned her. “Okay, one, two three!”

The slap was pretty hard and knocked sister Ruth back to her senses. She looked at the other nun with red eyes.

“Life sucks”, she said sulkily.

“Now she finds out!” exclaimed sister Martha and rose her arms. “Why do you think we’re all waiting for heaven?”

“I don’t want to go to heaven. I hate God.”

“Don’t be silly, you can’t hate God.” Sister Martha sat down next to her and laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” She sat up straight. “Why does everything work out fine for the really bad people, and the good people get the dumps?”

“Does it really? Always?” sister Martha teased her.

“Oh, shut up.”

Sister Ruth sat silently, staring out at nothing. Finally, sister Martha moved closer to her friend and with a gentle caress she asked:

“What happened? You seem to have shook up those boys.”

“How anything can shake them up anymore is beyond me”,answered sister Ruth. Then she added, to answer the question: “Nothing happened, really. Nothing that hadn’t happened already. I just… I don’t feel very well today.”

“Headache?”

“A little.”

Sister Martha removed sister Ruth’s veil and rubbed her head, the fingers slowly moving through the cropped hair. After a while, sister Ruth sighed deeply.

“Why am I here?” she asked. “Why are they here? Why can’t we just have normal lives? Families?”

“Do you honestly think…” Sister Martha paused, and then continued: “God doesn’t have some model that is ‘mankind’, that everyone must be like. A normal life, what is that? A man, is that what you want? But they can’t solve everything. Maybe if you had married some man, later, when that blind love had settled, he’d turn out to be really awful. And you’d still have to live with him for the rest of your life.”

“Children…”

“You have children.”

“They don’t really want me. Not me. They shold be with their mothers, but that can’t be, because for some reason… people can just walk into other people’s houses and kill everyone for money or worldly possessions. And I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t bring back what they lost, or make them whole…”

“Those two? They’re the wholest people I know.” Sister Martha smiled.“You little fool, is it them or yourself you’re feeling sorry for?”

Sister Ruth closed her eyes, painfully.

“Oh God, what a terrible person I am.”

“Ah. Yourself, then. Listen to me. First of all, you’re a wonderful person, and I think you know that. Second, if you try to put the weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s no wonder if you start pitying yourself. That’s not your job. If you and I stick together”, she put her arm around sister Ruth’s shoulder, “maybe we can do a few good deeds around here, though.”

Sister Ruth looked at her, astonished.

“Stick together?”

“Sure. Hey, silly, I love those boys, too. But that won’t change anything. They will be hurt, sooner or later. The world is pretty mean to what it doesn’t understand. We’ll just do our best and not carry to much weight.” The last words were spoken in a theatrical whisper.

She helped sister Ruth rise and put back her veil.

“Feeling better?”

Sister Ruth nodded, and sister Martha started to leave, after a final pat on the cheek. Then she turned back and asked:

“What were you doing, anyway?”

“I’m…” Sister Ruth hesitated, but couldn’t not tell the truth. “I’m teaching Ike the basics.”

“Ouw!” Sister Martha shook her head and clicked her tongue reproachingly. “No wonder you’re feeling down!”

Sister Ruth immediately turned into a hedgehog. A very spiny, biting hedgehog.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, no offense, but it seems like a waste of time.”

“I thought you said you loved him?”

“I also said man isn’t made from one model! Do you think I can’t love him because he’s retarded?”

“He’s not retarded!”

“Ruth…”

“He’s not! He’s just never been given a chance!”

Sister Martha leaned back and looked thoughtfully at her friend.

“What you’re just saying is the complete opposite to what more than a dozen nuns with just as much experience as you have been saying for almost six years.”

“Maybe. But I’m right.”

Sister Ruth was pale and resolute. Sister Martha, on the other hand, looked like Christmas was at hand.

“Care to bet on that?”

“What?” Sister Ruth shook her head in disbelief, but sister Martha just smiled.

“I bet five washing-ups that you can’t teach him what you could teach an average kid of thirteen.”

Sister Ruth looked firmly into the other nun’s eyes.

“Twenty that I can.”

“Twenty?” Sister Martha raised an eyebrow, and at this moment she looked just like a woman of somewhat less virtue. “Can you take that many dirty dishes?”

“Can you?”

“Then twenty it is. I’ll expect results in six months.”

Sister Ruth nodded in agreement.

“And sister Bridget will be the judge.”

“Bridget? Why?”

Sister Martha shrugged.

“Who else? That sort of stuff is her job. Or would you rather have Joan?” She grinned.

“Of course not”, said sister Ruth, rather impatiently. “But…well, you know, then we have to tell her.”

“So? If you’re right, everybody ought to know. And if you’re not… she’s not the kind who goes taddling.”

When sister Ruth ran into sister Bridget a few days later and the nun called her, she was startled. Surely she hadn’t been told already. She had assumed that they wouldn’t tell sister Bridget until the bet was over, but maybe sister Martha had thought differently.

“Yes?” she said. “What is it?”

“I just wondered if you know what Buck Cross has been doing lately?”

This was tricky. What was she supposed to say?

“What do you mean, ‘been doing’?”

“Well, he’s cut class a lot.” Sister Bridget looked troubled, but her eyes glittered when she continued: “Of course, I’ve heard that some teachers have problems keeping the children in class, but I never had.”She got serious again. “He’s always been very dedicated before.”

“Yes.” It did sound very unlike Buck. She had always thought that he knew the value of education. “Doesn’t he come to class at all?”

“Oh, yes! It’s only a few times a week he stays away. Actually,it’s almost always Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.”

Sister Ruth gave a sudden cry and quickly put her hand to her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She silently cursed her own stupidity. At first she had tutored Ike in the evenings, but she had free periods Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons, and she had found no reason why Ike shouldn’t come at that time as well. No reason, except that Buck of course had his own classes. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“You know”, she said, “if I see him, I’ll tell him to come back to class.”

“Alright”, agreed sister Bridget. “Take it easy on him, though. I want him to come back by his own free will, not by force.”

Sister Ruth nodded and marched through the corridors down the stairs to look for Buck outside.

“Hello!” Sister Martha joined her. “What are you up to? You look mighty angry.”

“I’m looking for Buck.”

“Why?”

“To tell him off.”

“At the risk of sounding nagging: Why?”

“Because he has been neglecting his own classes to attend Ike’s. Can you believe that?” For the first time she looked directly at sister Martha.

“I believe anything of that boy. Especially that he would rather be with his best friend than take care of his own education. Not that it isn’t stupid of him. Can I go with you?”

Sister Ruth laughed. “Sure.”

They met Buck by the entrance, where he and Ike were on their way out.

“Buck Cross!” shouted sister Ruth. The boy turned around, surprised at the harsh tone of voice. The nun continued: “Come here, young man, I want a word with you!”

He came up to her, not knowing what to expect.

“I hear you have been cutting class.”

“I’ve been with you and Ike.”

“That’s no excuse! What do you think you’re doing? Your education is important, don’t you get that?”

Ike tried to defend his friend: //We needed him for the translation.//

Sister Ruth shook her head.

“Don’t tell me you knew about this.”

//Of course I did.// Ike seemed surprised that this could be questioned. //I’m not stupid. Everybody has classes at that time of day.//

“Which makes me the one that should have known better. Did you really think that I would agree to something like that?”

//No.//

“No. That’s why we didn’t tell you.”

Sister Ruth turned helplessly to her colleague and raised her arms.

“Help me out here”, she pleaded. “I don’t know what to do with them.”

“I only understood half of this conversation, but very well.”Sister Martha clashed her hands together. “Now, Buck! Not even Samaritans are allowed to do anything they want to do. It’s your duty to take care of your education, is that clear?”

Buck just looked at her, and said:

“What’s a Samaritan?”

“Oh, no!” Sister Martha grimaced. “Don’t tell me sister Joan is your teacher in religion as well.”

“Yes. What’s a Samaritan?”

She waved the question away.

“We’ll talk about that some other time. Right now I want you to promise me you’ll stop cutting class.”

Buck shrugged.

“They need me for translation.”

“I think we can get by”, said sister Ruth mildly, and sister Martha continued:

“I’m sure you’re not indispensable. Ike can do without you there, can’t you, Ike?”

Ike grinned and nodded, and the nun turned back to Buck.

“See? You have no excuse, and you have to obey me, because I’m older, wiser and bigger than you!”

Buck raised an eyebrow, and the shadow of a smile flickered in the corner of his mouth.

“Older - certainly. Wiser - maybe. But bigger? I don’t think so.”

He straightened his back and looked sister Martha into her eyes.

“He is taller than you, Martha”, said sister Ruth calmly.

“No! He can’t be!” Sister Martha’s eyes turned to Ike for a second opinion.

//They look the same size to me.//

“What did he say?”

“The same size.”

“No!” Sister Martha seemed very upset. “I’m taller! I have to be, I’m an adult!” She looked at Buck with knitted eyebrows. “You’re just a child!”

“How old are you now, Buck?” asked sister Ruth. Her voice was patient.

“Fourteen.”

She nodded. That confirmed what she had thought.

“Take off your shoes, we’ll measure.”

Sister Ruth went into a nearby classroom and reappeared with a bible and a pencil.

“Martha, stand by the door-post. Ike, come here, you’re going to check that I hold the book straight.”

She put the book on Martha’s head, drew a line under it at the door-post and marked the line with an M. Then she did the same with Buck, and afterwards everybody turned to look at the marks.

“Not that half an inch matters much”, said sister Ruth. “But he is taller than you.”

“You must have held the bible wrong!”

Sister Ruth looked at Ike, who shook his head.

“Sorry, sister”, said Buck and smiled.

Martha looked at him and pouted.

“How can this be?” she said. “You were my baby!”

“Your what!?” Buck sounded shocked, and sister Ruth laughed.

“I don’t think she meant that literaly, dear”, she said.“She’s just a little surprised at how fast you two grow.”

“He was shorter than me a few months ago!”

“Boys in the early teens grow very fast.” Sister Ruth smiled at her friend’s attempt to prove right, and then she turned back to Buck. “Now that this is settled: Will you please go back to class anyway?”

“Of course.”

The tone of “that goes without saying” was so apparent in his voice that it amused her and gave her the courage to kiss his cheek.

“I love you”, she said. “And you”, she continued and repeated the procedure with Ike. The she turned to sister Martha and said: “It seems like our mission here is done, sister. Care to leave?”

“Well, certainly!”

When the two nuns had left, Buck looked after them and shook his head.

“They are so weird!” he said.

Ike smiled. //I like them.//

“Sure, me too, but they’re definitely weird. In a good way.”

//Like us.//

“Hm.”

Meanwhile, sister Martha asked sister Ruth:

“Was it Indian signs Ike was using?”

“Yes. Buck taught him that.”

“I was right, wasn’t I? The priest and the Levite passed him by… God, I love those boys!”

Sister Ruth laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. After a while she asked:

“Do you want to withdraw that bet we made?”

“Never!”

“But you’re not as sure anymore, are you?”

Sister Martha chuckled.

“I was never one hundred percent sure. Just think of me as a representative of the outer world.”

Buck did what he had promised and stopped cutting, but he kept turning up at Ike’s classes during recess. The fatigue that sister Ruth had felt at first disappeared when Ike started to make real progress, until that day came when he turned in what he had written, and she read it through and then cried out in joy.

“Do you know what this is?” she cried when he looked astonished. “It’s proof, that’s what it is!”

She left the classroom without even saying goodbye and ran through the corridors up the stairs.

This was late in the afternoon, so Buck was there too, and Ike turned to him with a troubled look on his face.

//That didn’t mean what I think it meant, did it?//

“I think she’s going to show it to people”, answered Buck

Ike sighed. //Couldn’t she at least have asked me first?//

Buck leant forward.

“When was the last time any adult - even she - ever asked for our permission to do something?”

Ike made a wry face.

Sister Ruth found sister Martha in the sitting-room, which was rather crowded; the nuns had gathered to complain over the day’s miseries. But today, the number of people didn’t bother her at all. She simply went up to sister Martha, handed her the sheet of paper and said:

“Read it and weep!”

Sister Martha glanced at the sheet.

“What’s this?”

“It’s twenty washing-ups, what does it look like?”

The other nuns stopped what they were doing at this remark and looked surprised at sister Ruth, but she kept her eyes focused on sister Martha’s face until the reading was done.

“Well?” she asked.

Sister Martha grinned.

“Well, I’ll be damned!”

“Martha!”

Mother Helen was shocked at this inappropriate remark.

“Forgive me mother, but this is really something!” Sister Martha raised her voice and looked around the room. “Ike McSwain has spent the last six years in the schoolyard when the others were in class, because some smartass had decided that he was uneducable! In less than six months, sister Ruth has proved that smartass wrong!” She looked at sister Ruth, and her face turned a little less enthusiastic. “And I owe you twenty washing-ups. Yuk. But it’s worth it.”

“Let me take a look at that!” Sister Joan suddenly pulled the sheet of paper from sister Martha’s hand. “ ‘Isabuterfli…’ This is nonsense!”

“No it’s not!” Sister Martha took it back and gave it to sister Bridget. “You’re our judge, is this nonsense?”

Sister Bridget read out loud:

“ ‘I saw a butterfly yesterday by the stable. It didn’t look like any butterfly I have seen before. It was bright red and blue, and if it had been white as well it would have looked almost like a flag.’ ” The latest sentence brought a smile to her face. “ ‘I wanted to catch it to show it to you, because it was so beautiful, but then I changed my mind. I thought that maybe if I caught it I would kill it by accident, and that would have been a pity. So instead, I’m telling you about it in this essay.’ ”

She stopped reading and said:

“Apart from the spelling it’s pretty good. Or at least it would have been, had it been a Latin inscription. How difficult is it to teach a kid to make space between words?”

“It didn’t seem important at the time”, answered sister Ruth.

“It isn’t important!” Sister Martha was very impatient.“What’s important is, is he retarded or not?”

“Absolutely not!” said sister Bridget resolutely. “It’s a perfectly fine first essay written by a perfectly normal kid of thirteen.”

“You don’t think…” Mother Helen looked apologizing at sister Ruth. “I don’t mean to sound suspicious, but you don’t think anyone could have helped him?”

“I watched him write it”, said sister Ruth, somewhat irritated.

“Of course that’s what you would say”, remarked sister Joan with a snort.

Sister Bridget looked amused.

“I take it you’re referring to Buck?”

Mother Helen nodded.

“Buck doesn’t write like this.” Sister Bridget was very certain she was right. “He’s a perfectionist. His sentences are short, and there are hardly ever any errors in them. To write something like this would be against his philosophy.”

“I believe you.” Mother Helen rose and looked around. “Which leads me to an obvious question. How could this happen? How dare we call ourselves Christians when we have neglected this boy for six years? Who’s supposed to be his teacher? I know it’s not sister Ruth.”

Sister Elizabeth hesitated and then raised her hands.

“If he’s thirteen and has been here for six years he’s my kid. Not that he has ever been to any of my classes.”

“Well, why not?” Mother Helen was beginning to lose her temper.

“His first teacher kicked him out.” Sister Ruth spoke in a low tone of voice, but everyone heard what she said.

“I did not!” said sister Joan indignantly.

Sister Martha burst into laughter, and Joan went from indignated to absolutely furious.

“I remember having him in my class. I wasn’t too happy about it, but I know my duty. I would never say anything like that.”

“You never told him anything, if I know you right”, said sister Martha sourishly.

“That’s enough, Martha”, warned mother Helen. “Joan, if you didn’t kick him out, who did?”

“Oh, dear”, said sister Cecily.

Everyone turned to her and she losed color. She was a rather tall nun who always crouched a bit, and she hardly ever expressed an opinion of her own.

“I didn’t mean to!” she pleaded. “He got into a fight, and…well, the other children were a bit hostile, so I let him leave the classroom and said that he didn’t have to come back. I didn’t mean for him to take it like that!”

“How did you expect him to take it?” asked sister Martha with contempt.

“Well, I thought there wasn’t any harm done! After all, he was… that is, I thought… I don’t know!”

She looked very miserable, and sister Martha clicked her tongue.

“I can’t believe we compare his intelligence to this.”

“Martha!”

Mother Helen had definitely crossed the line now, and sister Martha looked startled.

“That sounds terribly like ‘go to your cell’.”

“Well, why don’t you? We’ll fill you in on the details.”Mother Helen watched sister Martha so closely that the nun found it best to leave the room. Then she said: “It appears to me that we’re all a bunch of jackasses. Possibly with the exception of sister Ruth. What gave you the idea to do this?”

“It wasn’t my idea. He asked me.”

“He…” Mother Helen looked puzzled, and sister Ruth added:

“Buck has taught him Indian signs.”

Mother Helen buried her head in her hands and shook her head slowly.

“Just call me mother Jackass”, she said. “Sister Ruth, I’ll question him tomorrow. If everything works out fine, I’ll transfer him to sister Bridget’s class.”

Sister Ruth felt a stitch of something frightfully close to jealousy.

“Sister Bridget, is that alright?”

“What?” asked sister Bridget and looked up from the essay. She was laughing silently to herself, and mother Helen looked intrigued.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just remembered Lavender Brown.”

The name needed no further presentation. Everybody was familiar with Lavender Brown. Only last week she had gotten into her head that she would take away the nest that some bird had made on the chimney. A sweet gesture, certainly, but the nun that found the little girl standing on the roof of a four-storey building almost got a heart attack.

Sister Bridget laughed as she explained:

“It was a thing she did a couple of years ago, I don’t know why I recalled it right now. She had found a piece of chalk and drew a line on the corridor wall. Now, the kids draw on the walls sometimes, that’s not such a big deal, but she had drawn a line across the entire wall, all the way along the corridor.”

“I remember that”, said one of the nuns. “It took us quite a while to wash the wall.”

“Yes!” Sister Bridget shook her head. “I asked her why she did it, and she said, ‘I thought it was so exciting that the chalk made a mark on the wall’. ‘But why did you draw such a long line?’I asked. You know what she said? ‘I just wanted to see if it would keep doing it all the way’!”

They all laughed at this. Sister Bridget looked at sister Ruth, very thoughtful.

“I don’t know what reminded me of that. It was something…”

“God help us if he’s anything like Lavender Brown!” someone said.

“I don’t know about that.” Mother Helen smiled. “I kind of like Lavender Brown.”

Sister Ruth gave a start when the door opened, but when she found out it was only sister Martha, she almost got angry.

”What do you want?” she asked.

Sister Martha whistled.

”I’m apparently not welcome! I just wanted to wish you two luck.” Her eyes set on Ike, she continued: ”And to apologize to you.”

Ike was puzzled. //Why?//

”Why? Blimey… For taking the wrong side in that stupid bet.”She touched his chin and grinned. ”Now, show her what you’ve got, honey! I’ve got to go to class.”

And she left just as suddenly as she had come.

The next time the door opened it was actually mother Helen, but then sister Ruth had already lost some of her nervousness.

”Well, then, shall we get started?” the abbess said. She was the only one who didn’t seem about to start biting her nails, but then again, she had no reason to. She sat down on a chair and opened a book that she put in front of Ike, and then she clapped her hands and took a deep breath.

”Alright, then! Sister Ruth, will you move away a bit, to the window perhaps? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but some people might appreciate if we make this 100 per cent certain.”

Sister Ruth opened her mouth to object, but closed it again. She saw the point in the arrangement.

Mother Helen seemed unusually cheerful.

”Ike, I want you to read this story through and then retell it to me in your own words.” She stopped, closed her eyes and sighed. ”Signs. Obviously. When you have done that, we will discuss the story. Everything clear?”

He nodded.

”Get started, then.”

After a while, Ike looked up and met mother Helen’s eyes.

”Are you finished? Good. Then tell me what this story is about.”

//The sun and the wind were fighting//, he signed.

Sister Ruth translated this and then added: ”Reverand mother, I should tell you that I have heard this story.”

”That’s alright, we don’t have to exaggerate this. Go on, Ike.”

//They wanted to know who was the stronger, so they decided to have a...// He hesitated. He didn’t know any sign for”contest”yet. He went up to the blackboard and wrote it there. Mother Helen nodded.

”Mhm. What kind of a contest?”

//They saw a man below, who was wearing a coat. They decided that the one who could take the coat off the man was the stronger. The wind started, and it blew at the man, harder and harder, but the more it blew, the more the man held on to his coat. Finally, the wind had to give up, and then the sun tried. It shone on the man, who got really warm, and then even warmer//, Ike’s eyes glittered, and he was really involved in the story now, acting it out as every storyteller should, //and after a while the man unbuttoned his coat. But that didn’t help much. He started to sweat, and finally he took his coat off. The wind had to admit that the sun was stronger than him.//

”Good! Very well told!” The abbess smiled at him and asked:”What do you think this story is about? What did the person want to say, who made this story?”

Ike thought about this for a few seconds and then answered:// That warmth will get you further than force.//

”Do you think that’s true?”

//Depends.//

”On what?”

//On what you want and who you’re dealing with. Sister Ruth is warm, and she doesn’t always get what she wants. And I’ve gotten things by fighting that I couldn’t get any other way.//

Mother Helen put her chin on her clasped hands. ”If I’m not mistaken you have gotten quite a lot by fighting. Do you prefer force then, for yourself?”

He shook his head. //No. I fight when everything else has failed. I would much rather be a warm person.//

”And thank God for that!” added sister Ruth, which made the abbess laugh.

”Alright, Ike, then we’re finished. Tomorrow at half past eight I expect you to be in sister Bridget’s classroom - number five on the second floor.” She rose and got ready to leave, but then stopped and her eyes looked out at nothing for a moment. Then she said: ”You might as well start your religious education immediately. Read chapter 12 of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians until next week and write down a few opinions on it.”

Sister Ruth looked thoughtful, and she didn’t move as the other two left the room. This made mother Helen return and ask:

”Is there something wrong, sister?”

”No… Well, I’m going to miss him terribly, but no. I was just wondering… I know chapter 13 is about love, but I can’t seem to remember what’s in chapter 12.”

”’And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee’ etcetera. Does that ring a bell?”

”Oh, of course!” Sister Ruth’s face lightened. ”That’s a lovely chapter.”

It was hard for sister Ruth to avoid a certain emptiness, even though she fought it intensely. This was what they wanted, this was what they had worked for, she ought to be happy.

The thoughts possessed her to such an extent that she knitted four extra purls without even noticing at first. When she found out, she let an unfriendly remark leave her lips, only to bite them afterwards. It was hardly the knitting’s fault.

Sister Martha sat down beside her.

”You know, there’s no law against feeling blue”, she said.”Not that I know why you should. They’re still in school, it’s not as if he left the country!”

”It’s not that.” Sister Ruth kept her voice low; this was nobody else’s business.

”What is it, then?”

She was reluctant to tell, but couldn’t help herself:

”I miss feeling useful! I want to stay in that battle, do it all over again.”

”Then why don’t you?”

”With another child?” Sister Ruth shook her head. ”I couldn’t do that.”

”Why not? Just ’cause it’s another child it doesn’t mean it’s another battle.” She looked smiling, searching, at her friend. ”You look at this the wrong way. It wasn’t Ike that needed changing, it was the world around him. Me, for example. I think you’ve changed me quite a lot. I was taking things for granted and didn’t even know I was doing it!”

Sister Ruth looked confused by this attitude, so sister Martha dragged her to the window.

”Look at our boys!” she said and pointed down at the schoolyard.

Sister Ruth looked - and saw two young boys, far from the crowd.

”It’s still the two of them against the world”, said sister Martha from behind her back. ”No happy endings.”

”But they have us!” objected sister Ruth.

”They’ll always have us. But not meddling in their battles. Battle is battle, boy is boy.” She was very clearly teasing now.

”So what should we do, watch them from the third floor?”

”Why not?”

”What does that make us?”

”Sensible parents.”

Sister Ruth stared at her friend. Nobody had mentioned that word before. Sister Martha’s eyes glittered.

”Well, nobody said we couldn’t play house with them.”

Sister Ruth moved closer to the soft bosom and said:

”Hello, Pa.”

Then they both burst into helpless giggle.

The years had gone by, and now Buck and Ike were standing in their last dormitorium, packing their few belongings. Buck sat don on his bed and grinned at the sight of his friend’s makeshift bag.

”You look like a bum”, he said.

Ike grinned back.

//What are we then?//

”Yeah, I guess…”

They quit the discussion for a minute as the nun on duty checked that the beds were ready to take new children.

”It looks good”, she said and nodded at them, neither friendly nor unfriendly. ”I hope you’ll think kindly of us wherever you may be.”

And so she left. The boys looked at each other, a bit bewildered.

”So…” said Buck. The unfinished sentence filled the air.

//That’s it?// asked Ike.// Should we leave now?//

”You certainly shouldn’t leave without saying good-bye”, said a mild voice from near the door.

They turned around and smiled at their old friend.

”We didn’t hear you coming, sister!” said Buck.

”Well, I have light feet”, said sister Ruth. She sobbed a bit as she hugged and kissed them. ”I’m going to miss you two very much!” she said.

Ike wiped her tears away. //Don’t cry.//

”I’m a grown woman and I’ll cry as much as I want, thank you very much!” answered sister Ruth.

”Where’s sister Martha?” asked Buck and looked around.

”In her cell. Doing what I do best.” Sister Ruth smiled through the tears. ”She hates good-byes. But she gives you this.”

She handed a small, leather-bound book to Buck, who looked at it and frowned.

”A prayer book?”

”It’s called a breviarium. It’s the daily prayers a nun is supposed to pray.” She smiled at his expression. ”Nobody’s trying to convert you, but you might as well know your options. Besides, apparently it’s one of her favourite books.”

She turned to Ike.

”And this is one of mine. Enjoy it.”

He found himself looking at a worn copy of Walter Scott’s”Ivanhoe”.When he opened it, he saw an inscription on the title page, written in childish letters:

”To Ruthie from Mick on her birthday.”

Below, in a grown woman’s more sophisticated writing, it said:

”From Ruth to Ike McSwain. I’ll never forget you.”

Ike thanked the nun eagerly and turned to Buck.// She dedicated it for me, isn’t that sweet?//

Buck hurried to open his book to see if he had gotten a dedication too. He carefully read the strange Latin words out loud:

”Check the Com… Completorium for Nu… Nun…”

”Nunc Dimittis?” suggested sister Ruth.

”Yes. ’Love, Martha’. Why should I check it?”

”Because it’s her favourite prayer”, said sister Ruth and smiled. ”Now, would you mind terribly if I followed you down to the road and waved for as long as I can see you at all?”

//Of course not.//

”We would be honored.”

When sister Ruth had finished this task she wept a few more tears and then went inside the nuns’ private wing. She knocked on the door to sister Martha’s cell. Nobody answered, so she tried the handle, and the door swung open.

Sister Martha was lying on her bed, crying wildly with her face buried in the pillow. Sister Ruth sat down beside her and softly stroke her head.

”There, there”, she said, as if she was talking to a very small child.”At least we have still got each other. And for what it’s worth, I love you very, very much.”

The younger nun turned on her back and flung her arms around sister Ruth’s neck, the tear-rimmed face pressed against her.

”Don’t ever leave me”, she said.

”Oh, I won’t”, said sister Ruth calmly, and the tears started to come back into her own eyes as well. ”You won’t ever be rid of me.”

And there they sat, crying, holding each other. And they knew that the game had been the truth. They were a family.

The End


End file.
